


The Best Thing

by Krislmart



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Memories, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:53:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22327393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krislmart/pseuds/Krislmart
Summary: Dean thinks back over his 2019 as the decade comes to a close.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 31
Collections: Destiel Instagram One Shot/Art Contest - January 2020





	The Best Thing

Swirling whiskey around in his glass, Dean looked at the clock on the wall. Ten minutes left to go in the year. Glancing to the kitchen, he smiled as he saw Sam hurriedly lining up cups on the counter for champagne. Closing his eyes, he tuned out the chatter of his friends and thought back to this time last year.

~~

One year ago, Dean Winchester felt like he was below rock bottom. Sam would tell him that was an exaggeration. He had a house, money to put food on the table, and a steady job. His basic needs were being met, there was no question about that. But beyond the basics? Dean had nothing.

After graduating from college, Dean had accepted a marketing job at Sandover. The pay was decent but that was the only decent thing about the job. Every day, Dean dragged himself home, sitting on his couch, mindlessly watching reruns of Dr. Sexy or Scooby Doo. He had even stopped trying to go out on weekends. The club scene held no appeal for him anymore and trying to date had proved impossible. 

Thinking back to those failed dating attempts made Dean shudder. From Lisa who really only wanted a dad for her son to Bela who didn’t believe men could be bisexual to Benny who was still hung up on his ex, Dean had seen it all.

Sam had been badgering Dean about his birthday since New Year’s. Dean had insisted he didn’t want to do anything but Sam wouldn’t let it rest. Thankfully, Dean got his way for the most part. They spent a quiet dinner at Bobby’s house.

Dean felt tears well up as he remembered that birthday. He hadn’t expected much, especially since Sam was taking the bar exam next month.

~~

“What the hell, Sam?” Dean chuckled. He had unsealed the first envelope Sam had given him to find a coupon for one year of free legal services.” “Are you expecting me to go on a crime spree this year or something? I know my life is boring but not that boring.”

“I thought it might come in handy, jerk,” Sam scoffed. “Plus I got you the other envelope too.”

Still laughing, Dean slit the envelope. “Yes!” he cried out. “A year of car restoration magazines! Thanks Sam!”

Bobby slid a small envelope across the table to Dean. “Happy birthday boy. Before you open it, I wanted to say that you don’t need to feel obligated by what’s in here. But I’ve noticed how unhappy you’ve been lately. You know that I think of you and Sam as my own and if I can do anything to help you, I will.”   
Dean flushed. “Bobby, stop,” he mumbled, grabbing the envelope and tearing it open. His jaw dropped. “This is too much,” he whispered, eyes darting from Bobby to Sam, who was wearing a wide grin. “Sam, did you know about this?”

Sam’s grin stretched even wider. “Why do you think I gave you a year of legal services and car restoration magazines?”

Bobby clapped a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Son, there was no one I would prefer to take the garage more than you. I can’t even count the number of hours you spent in that garage growing up, not to mention you building that Impala back from scratch. I also know that you’ve been saving up a good amount of money at your current job and it should be enough to make an offer on that lot next to the shop with plenty left over for an expansion.”

Dean’s eyes widened but, before he could say anything, Bobby continued.

“You need more space if you’re going to work on restoring classics. Don’t think we’ve forgotten your dream. You may have shelved it, but maybe it’s time to bring it back down.”

~~

A low chuckle from Dean’s right made him smile. If he hadn’t accepted Bobby’s present, he would have never had that chuckle in his life. April was when everything changed…

“Bobby!” Dean yelled as he stormed into the house. “How the hell did you manage this?”

“What the hell Dean?” Bobby rounded the corner, eyeing the irate man before him. “What’s got you tore out of frame now?”

Dean threw a bunch of papers on the dining room table. “All of this.” He ran a hand through his hair. “How did you deal with all of this paperwork? And taxes? I’ve never had an issue with taxes before but business taxes are completely different. I’m never going to get all of this straightened out in time.” With a huff, he sank into a chair.

“Well,” Bobby said, sitting across from Dean, “I wasn’t trying to run two businesses at once. Also, I had gotten a business degree and knew enough to get all of my paperwork together. But I didn’t do my taxes myself. There’s still time to hire someone. And honestly, Dean, you might want to look into someone that can help out with all of the paperwork. That way you won’t have this problem anymore.”

Resting his head on his hand, Dean thought for a moment. “I can ask Charlie if she knows anyone. 

~~

Dean opened his eyes when he felt someone sit beside him on the couch and was met by brilliant blue. 

“Hi Cas,” he softly said, remembering the first day he got the chance to look into those eyes...

“Dean!” Charlie slung her bag onto the shop’s front desk. “I’ve lined up the perfect guy for all of your accounting needs.” 

Dean gave her a thumbs up from where his head was buried in his arms on the desk. 

“Awh, rough night handmaiden?” she teased.

“Rough week,” Dean groaned. “I’ve started having nightmares where the IRS is chasing me. What kind of person chooses to do paperwork and math day in and day out for the rest of their lives?”

“Generally, people who like it,” a rough voice responded.

Dean’s head shot up, eyes wide. Mirth danced in Charlie’s eyes and Dean could tell she was barely holding back a laugh. 

“Uh…” Dean stammered, trying to find words as he stared at the dark-haired guy in front of him.  _ Shit _ , he thought.  _ Come on, Winchester. Get your shit together. _ ”

“Dean,” he finally spat out. “That’s my name, I mean. Dean Winchester.”

The guy held out his hand. “Castiel Novak. I’m here to interview for a bookkeeping position since I’m one of those math people.” 

Dean was mortified but still noticed how Castiel’s eyes twinkled slightly.

“Shit man, that’s my bad. My brain to mouth filter is pretty much shot, especially after the last coupla weeks. We can head back to my office and talk about the position.”

~~

“What are you thinking about?” Cas said, leaning in close to Dean so he could be heard over Charlie’s delighted laughter as Sam fought the champagne bottle.

“How I made a complete ass of myself the first time we met and how you still took the job and even agreed to go on a date with me.” Dean wrapped an arm around Cas, pulling the other man into his side tightly.

“What can I say?” Cas grinned. “Maybe my type is blunt mechanic/business owners. Or,” he leaned in closer until he was whispering in Dean’s ear, “maybe your ass cancelled out how you make an ass of yourself.”

“Okay you two,” Charlie said, plopping down on the couch beside Dean. “There’ll be time for all of that later. Now, we have to welcome a new year and a new decade. Who knows what’ll happen!”

“Couldn’t think of a better person to spend it with,” Dean said.

As everyone started chanting the countdown, Dean tightened his arm around Cas. 

“THREE. TWO. ONE!” screamed all of their friends.

“Happy New Year, Dean,” Cas murmured.

“Happy New Year, Cas,” Dean said before leaning in and kissing the best thing to happen to him in the old year.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading this little New Year's drabble!
> 
> Come say hi (or make requests) at [Twitter](https://www.twitter.com/krislmart) or [Tumblr](https://krislmart.tumblr.com)!


End file.
